


Revival Has Its Own Cost

by Merfilly



Series: Avenged, Annealed, and Atoned [1]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Fade to Black, M/M, Nick Fury Lies, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-24
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-22 05:57:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/606542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil awakens and begins to move forward from his death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Revival Has Its Own Cost

He knew the noises around him: hum of electronic monitoring devices, occasional beep of a medical machine, the passage of nurses and doctors outside a very thin door of glass that let the patient be seen. He had endured those sounds countless times, waiting for agents to regain consciousness in SHIELD's intensive care units.

He had never been the one needing to wake up.

Despite knowing someone was likely on vigil for him (Hill? Barton? Which Agent had gotten this unlucky, nerve-cracking task of waiting for him to decide to live or die?), he kept his eyes closed and tried to find the memories surrounding why he was in here.

_So that's what it does._

Those words haunted his thinking but also began to unlock the memories. He'd been dying, knew he was. He thought he'd managed to be effective, and maybe the mission had succeeded if he was being allowed to wake in their hospital ward.

Too much trauma around the full episode, he finally decided, to manage a full mental debrief, and he made himself look, a private wager that it would be Barton.

The wager was immediately lost as the singular eye of Director Fury was focused on his face.

"Wondered how long you were going to keep me waiting, Coulson."

"Sir." The startled tone was not intentional, but Phil thought he'd be forgiven in light of the circumstances.

"Good call on your last move, bad execution, Coulson." Fury leaned in toward the bed from the chair. "Permission to clock out has been denied."

"Yes sir, understood sir." Phil then looked slightly confused. "What was my last move, sir?"

"One I never want to use again, Coulson, so keep the heroics limited to your actual Avengers."

" _My_ Avengers?" Phil asked, letting one eyebrow creep up.

"Yes. I'm leaving it to you to figure out how to let them all know you didn't actually punch out for good," Fury said, before standing up. "Get better, Agent, and that's a priority order!" 

"Yes sir." He could live (would live, when he had a feeling he should not have) with that order.

He just didn't let himself think too much about it, especially not when the director laid a hand on his shoulder for a moment, squeezed, then moved on to attend to SHIELD matters.

`~`~`~`~`

Apparently, recovering from being declared dead, and revived within the medically allotted time for such things before being placed in a medical coma took a little more than just resolve to recover from. Phil was firm with himself, yet his moral fiber was not capable of holding his body up when his lungs had no more stamina. 

The third time he collapsed in the middle of his rehab session, breathing hard and shallow against the pain in his midsection, he was half-tempted to call his therapist on the sadism involved in this supposed therapy.

"Priority does not mean 'break your neck'," Fury's voice sounded, before the Director helped him to his feet. They were face to face, and that single eye was flicking over Phil's face, reading it. "Right; as of this moment, Agent, you are on detached duty."

"Sir, I don't think I have the ability to..."

"Agent Coulson, do I have to remind you of the idiocy of assuming you know the qualifications of a mission prior to being told the parameters?" Fury asked him.

"Consider me reminded, sir."

"Orders will arrive soon," Fury informed him. "Probably from Agent Hill. You are not to give her any disagreement over the disposition or content thereof."

"Of course not, sir," Phil informed him, even as he buckled down all of his emotions at knowing Fury had replaced him with the better, younger, able Agent.

"Good. Now get off your feet, man!"

`~`~`~`~`

Detached duty was as data consultant assigned... directly to Fury himself. Given the way Fury worked, moved, and slept, this was possibly one of the most challenging assignments yet. Phil was given a power chair that he quickly discovered had far too much of Stark-tech in it; it sassed him.

"Would you keep up with him," Phil murmured too softly to be overheard by the guards... and the chair which was refusing to acknowledge his fervent forward motion of the buttons controls beeped as loud as it could.

"Negative, user has neglected safety protocols."

He swore he would remember the guards well for the soft snickers, even as he secured the lap belt... and the chair took off at full speed to catch up to Fury.

The Director just started dictating what he expected out of this detached duty, as if Coulson had never delayed him at all.

"Pee Tee with me... the hands on of another Agent if I am not available... will be the first part of any given day. I've already gotten the lists of exercises from your 'sadists' and 'hobgoblins' to oversee the part where you get better. I have all the files from the Chitauri invasion ready for you to begin writing the after action. Yes, it's been nearly sixty days, but you were in a position to see far more of the chessboard than any of the other analysts. New cases as necessary, with your reports handed directly to me and no one else." Fury paused in their walk, making Phil come to a rapid stop. "Agent Coulson, I need my eye back. But I need you clear of direct SHIELD entanglement. Do you understand?"

"I am certain I will, Director," Phil answered as neutrally as possible... and Fury almost smiled.

"Good. Oh, by the way, you'll be sharing quarters with me until I personally decide to have medical clear you for duty. Never know when I'll want to hash something out."

"So I anticipated, sir," Phil told him, letting curiosity replace the feeling of having been replaced. Fury had a new angle, and Phil was itching to know just what it was.

`~`~`~`~`

Phil handled the data from the Invasion flawlessly, breaking down all points to expose the flaws. It had not taken him long to see Fury had let Stark hack the firewalls on purpose, but he also saw the logic. Stark was too maverick to take the data if delivered in a briefing, but also just the right sort of charismatic type to deliver the necessary files to the other loners that comprised the Avengers. While the death toll of the Invasion had been higher than Phil, the man, cared to see, Agent Coulson knew they had gotten off lightly.

All due to his supposed death finally providing each member of the Avengers a personal reason to work with the others, he surmised. Once he did, it started to filter together that Fury had been there, that he had tried to tell Fury his loss would serve a final purpose.

He woke that night gasping for air, hands scrambling over his body as he looked for the scars and the evidence that he had, truly, died. The echoing sob as realization crashed through every wall he held in place around his dignity and aplomb horrified him... and brought Fury through the door.

Rationally, Phil knew his director had been in the hall already. However, rationality had little to do with the war of emotions at being seen without his shielding dispassion around him.

"Easy, Phil... been expecting this," Fury... no, Nick... said as he sat on the edge of the bed. "Not every day a man as solid as you are comes face to face with death and wakes up this side of mortality."

"I miscalculated, I dropped the ball, I..."

"Gave us the edge to get ahead of the game, and finally kick that brat of a god's tail plus a good thousand or more alien butts!" Nick informed him. "Never would have been a call I made, but... I thought I had lost you."

"You did right, sir. It's what I tried to say before..." Phil brought his hand to the scar, flinching when Nick covered it with his own.

"You were dead for seven minutes twenty eight seconds. You died once more on the table for another three minutes sixteen seconds. I think you've got a right to be shaken up." Nick's voice was quiet, firm, and too the point, making Phil look up to try and read his face. "SHIELD nearly lost a good Agent, the team had a reason to fight as one, and I just had to hope you'd be willing to still be here for me when it all shook out in your head."

Phil took a breath... far too ragged, but if Nick said he had a right, then he could afford to relax his control for a few minutes... and brought his other hand up along Nick's. "If I walked away, then I might as well have died that day."

Nick let their hands stay tangled for the moment, then got up to shut the door... staying in the room.

Phil certainly didn't mind, being in no shape to deny that he needed the hands-on attention of a friend right then.

`~`~`~`~`

**Author's Note:**

> Having wished to do a #CoulsonLives fic since BEFORE I even saw the movie, I finally had reason to do so after watching said movie in its entirety, at last, within the past month.
> 
> I thought it would be sweet, angsty, and maybe a touch traumatic at points. My muses disagree. Look for the next parts to feature various Avengers and cast mates reassuring themselves that yes, Coulson Lives.


End file.
